


Time for the Gathering

by AussieTransfan2015



Series: Requests [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fighting, Mating Rituals, Rutting, The Gathering, Tribal, Violence, heat cycle, loving, mythical AU, slight non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieTransfan2015/pseuds/AussieTransfan2015
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is time for the Gathering, a festival of all thirteen Ogre tribes convening on sacred ground. Why? Because it's rutting season. After being together for the last few years, and at the persuasion of his father, Bloodshed has finally brought Thornstriker to the gathering to quell all rumours regarding her. But will they both come out unscathed? Or will this Gathering change them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time for the Gathering

**Author's Note:**

> Stormstrike (OC) belongs to me.
> 
> Thornstriker, Bloodshed and Bombrush are OCs of xTheBigLoserQueenx
> 
> This is a request fic, as I've opened requests on my tumblr. If you're interested, shoot me a comment at TheRagingTransfan on tumblr or comment here.

** Mythical AU **

 

** Thornstriker/Bloodshed **

* * *

 

Thornstriker still couldn't wrap her head around what was happening.

One moment, or more precisely three days ago, she was spending time with Bloodshed. He had offered to decorate a small alcove of his home for her to use. Even though the close villages feared the ogre, he somehow managed to collect fine silks and draps to decorate her small corners; plush pillows and rugs too.

However, with the promise of an old bookshelf he managed to procure, another come into the cave. He was a large ogre, much like Bloodshed, and seem rather surprised to see her, just as she was to him. Bloodshed seemed to know him, ushering her away while they spoke. She didn't mind but the next thing she knew Bloodshed had started packing up her clothes with a short, curt 'we're leaving' and had rushed them out.

Now, on a small wagon the other ogre had used for the bookshelf left back in the cave, she watched the two bicker and banter.

"Why didn't you say you found someone?" the ogre smiled, Bombrush was the name Bloodshed had used. He had only growled at this ogre for the past few minutes, leaving her feeling a tad awkward.

Jumping, Thornstriker flinched as this Bombrush turned to her, a bright smile on his face.

"My apologies, my dear," he cooed, slowing down a bit to pace beside her seated self. "Where are my manners, in my son's rush to leave I never introduced myself."

"S-Son?" Thornstriker looked between the two, and somehow she had missed just how alike they looked. Bloodshed just growled, but gave her a curt nod to confirm.

"Oh I'm not surprised he hasn't mentioned me," Bombrush glanced over to Bloodshed, seeming to be pleased with his annoyed reactions. "I am Bombrush."

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," Thornstriker smiled. She had never seen anyone of Bloodshed's life, aside from his friends.

“So polite! How in Primus name did my son find a polite, charming girl like you?” Bombrush beamed, enjoying the loud growl coming from said son. Thornstriker blushed, flustered from the older Ogre’s compliment. She was surprised he was so polite himself. Bloodshed as spoken of other ogres being primal, strength drawing from their rage, anger and bloodlust while his own father smiled, was courteous and polite and nothing but a gentleman to her.

“U-um, where exactly are we going again?” Thornstriker asked, hoping to turn the subject away from her.

“You’re bringing her to the Gathering and didn’t tell her why?” Bombrush turned shocked, his playful tone turning to one of concern and shock. Sighing, shaking his head, Bombrush smiled back. “The Gathering is a festival of sorts, shared by all ogres. As we all come from tribes, this ancient tradition demands all to make a journey to the ancient lands that hosted the Gathering generations ago. This occurs once a year and lasts almost a month, only rarely does it last longer.”

“What’s the purpose of the Gathering?” Thornstriker asked, her eyes glowing with curiosity and fascination.

“Well, before the tradition began, all tribes where separate and often warred against each other for land and territory. Some were nomadic and some settled tribes felt they were infringing on their lands. Others held deep grudges and took to war and complete massacres to solve their conflicts. Soon, the elders from all thirteen tribes gathered and agreed all tribes must converge on this ancient land to unit as one people and settle any conflicts.”

Thornstriker was rapt. Much to Bombrush’s own delight, the young human was as curious as a child and asking question after question regarding the Gathering as well as the culture of Ogres. He had come to find Bloodshed had not spoken much on his own people – nothing he was surprised about -  but it delighted him to find his son’s beloved was so conscious and considerate to learn their culture.

“There is another matter I must warn you of, my dear,” Bombrush paused, seeing the familiar paths leading to the sacred grounds. Bloodshed tensed, stopping their cart much to Thornstriker’s confusion.

“Yes?”

“There is another reason the Gathering still takes place, considering some of our younger generations take to leading individual lives rather than keep to their tribes,” Thornstriker nodded, wondering just what this other reason was and why it seemed to stand out from what was said previous. “Many come to the Gathering…to find mates. If anything, it is expected to leave with a new bondmate or having found one to sire a child.”

“Bombrush!" Bloodshed hissed, turning fully to his father, glaring him down.

 

  
"Hey, I am just warning your  _fragile_ human companion what she is being pulled into," Bombrush brushed him off. "The fact that other ogres fueled by rutting, bashing and butting heads, male AND female alike in order to bring in the next generation. Why you didn't think to tell her this or even agree to bring her along is your own fault."   


 

"Bloodshed?" Thornstriker watched him shake but calmed hearing her voice. She knew he had been getting agitated as of late. And some of the books Solstice had managed to get back to her had depicted from cautions regarding Ogres, especially the fact their 'rutting' season was particularly dangerous for any other creature or human to come across.

 

"You told me to bring her so to shut those nosy arses from asking about her!" Bloodshed snapped, turning away so not to act on his annoyance in front of Thornstriker.

 

"W-Who?" she hesitated to ask, seeing Bloodshed this concerned and annoyed always worried her.

 

  
"Rumors about you have made you quite the gossip item," Bombrush explained, "Some wish to see just who tamed the current Ring Champion, and m an y have asked after you for the last few years. Only now does my son heed my advise and silence their bickering and questions."   


 

"And to keep them away from our home," Bloodshed had hissed under his breath, but enough for Thornstriker to hear. Had another ogre tried to come to the little gully? She couldn't recall seeing anyone and often times when Bloodshed went to hunt he'd take her with him, settle somewhere close by as he hunt.

 

"After this Gathering they won't bother you, given you intend to show she's an equal not as some thrall or prize," glancing over his son, yet again Bloodshed growled. He knew how much he hated tradition, given he was now an independant. Bombrush sighed, pulling a small crest from his pack. "Here, please keep this visable on you at all time."

 

Confused again, Thornstriker took the small crest, noting its detail and craftsmanship. She could easily wear it as a necklace or even a broach.

 

"Remember, never take this off. It will ensure your protection and tell all to leave you be," She nodded, but still didn't understand.

 

"So no one thinks you're a slave, or some toy," Bloodshed suddenly said, no doubt sensing her confusion staring back at him. "It's still common for some tribal ogres to take prizes from conquests or bring live gifts," stopping the cart again, Bloodshed showed a rare moment before his father. Pulling the surprised and apprehensive Thornstriker into his arms, even placing a small kiss on her forehead. "I promise to protect you, keep you safe. Just stay near me, never wander off okay?"

 

"Okay," she nodded, holding onto him tighter. The last thing she wanted was for some strange ogre getting her cornered, especially if the whole point of this gathering was to settle rutting.

 

Bombrush seemed pleased, whether Bloodshed registered or not didn't matter. They were back on the trail and making their way into the Gathering.

 

The sheer number of ogres walking around, erecting tents or setting up small huts drew Thornstriker in on herself, especially when many turned to stare at her. Small whispers started hovering around. Many were questioning if she was Bloodshed's mate, the one the rumors chattered about or some prize he wanted to show off. One look from the dark ogre sent them off, turning them away or silencing their chatter. 

 

Reaching the growing heart of tents was an open patch that seemed reserved or waiting for someone. Bloodshed and Bombrush stopped, setting the cart down before turning to its contents.

 

"Stay here, I'll get the tent up," Nodding, Thornstriker watched as Bloodshed worked. Bombrush had gone to the side, erecting his own tent. However as Thornstriker watched, her eyes widened at just how big these tents were. Bloodshed, once the main structure was secured, started fastening pelts to the outside. She recalled it would keep the hut warm at night. Bombrush, however, had some made with finer materials. No doubt from the city where he served as general. He also had plush pillows, rugs and blankets to set up within. Bloodshed had similar pillows and blankets from what he had kept at home, but Thornstriker watched as he moved a larger pillow, or was it a mattress?

 

"Do you...want to leave anything here?" Bloodshed broke her from her thoughts, turning to see he had finished. "We'll need to head to the arena soon, for the elders speech," Thornstriker nodded, suddenly gasping as Bloodshed picked her off the cart. Her face flushed red, there were so many eyes on her and moved with her she could feel herself locking up. Once on the ground, she quickly bolted for the tent, hiding inside.

 

Bloodshed growled again. She didn't have to be here. This was only causing her more grief than it was worth.

 

"Don't worry, they'll come to stop eventually," Bombrush assured, only watching as his son snapped at him.

 

"It'll last the whole gathering, nosy fraggers," he hissed, cursing more.

 

"It was either this or put up with everyone asking about her. Trust me, this will placate those curious," clapping a hand on his shoulder, no surprise Bloodshed shrugged him off. "Take your frustration out in the arena, it'll do you some good."

 

"Thornstriker hates violence," Bombrush quirked an eyebrow, this was the first time he was mentioning this. And he could see Bloodshed didn't like the idea of fighting in front of her. He might not care what others thought of him but he definitely cared for her words.

 

"Then I'll keep her occupied while you fight. Seems some vendors decided to bring their wares this year, might find a lovely engagement gift for her," Bloodshed nodded, but took a moment to take in what he had said, snapping and glaring at his father, knowing the kind of ogre he was. "What's with the look? She'll no doubt be my daughter-in-law soon enough."

 

"No. Clothes." Bloodshed hissed, leading his father to chuckle.

 

"Come come, she'll be my daughter-in-law, not my wife. I reserve such gifts for my Soundwave," he smirked, already thinking about what to get his own beloved wife.

 

"So where is she?" Bloodshed called his father out, watching as his inflated wonder of gifts turned to annoyance.

 

"She...had other business to handle in the capital," curt and to the point meant more than what he had said.

 

"She didn't want you chasing her around before drilling her into the ground," Bloodshed took the chance when he got it, seeing how his father enjoyed his own medicine.

 

"Watch it," fair warning from his father but he took the prize where he could, instead turning into his own tent to tend to Thornstriker.

 

She had already packed away her belongings and was idly playing with her hair. Combing through her brown hair, teasing some into a small plait, she jumped as Bloodshed sat with her.

 

"There...are a few things I need to tell you before we head out," knowing she needed to be prepared before taking her out into the pit, Bloodshed tried to be concise and honest. Thornstriker sat and listened, taking in everything he told her. Taking in every warning and ettiquette. By the end, she questioned if she could survive this. Fighting to prove dominance? To fight the one you wanted as a mate? Taking mates as trophies? She knew their societies were vastly different yet her mind struggled to understand just why they do this. 

 

"I...may be called to fight," he promised he'd be honest, and that meant telling her what might happen. "But you'll be with Bombrush, he'll keep you safe. He can be a perverted skirt-chaser, but he...thinks of you as family and will protect you, I promise."

 

  
Thornstriker nodded. Inside she was worried and a little panicked. Bloodshed fighting to any degree worried her; would he get hurt?  W ould his injuries be severe? Could she help him? She recalled many stories from traders and travellers of how brutal ogre conflicts could be. It made her cringe and shake.   


 

"Do...do you have to fight?" Thornstriker looked Bloodshed in the eye, hoping he could compromise and try to avoid fighting altogether.

 

"If I decline a challenge, it'll put you in danger," Thornstriker was taken aback. How could declining a fight harm her? "Ogres...we would see it as weakness to refuse to fight. It means you are hiding your weakness. They might deem you that weakness and...deal away with you."

 

"What?"

 

  
"Or...they would deem my refusal as a forfeit and could take you as a trophie," his arms snapped around her, drawing her close. "I will  _never_ let  _anyone_ harm you, or take you away from me."   


 

Thornstriker, though frightful of the idea of being taken as a trophy or even killed, warmed from Bloodshed's declaraction. Despite the threat it came to any who harmed her, her heart warmed knowing he would be with her.

 

"Now if you love birds are ready, the Elders are about to speak," Bombrush called from outside of the tent, causing Bloodshed to tense and growl. Thornstriker merely smiled, pulling back and leading Bloodshed out, taking his arm as they followed Bombrush.

 

Shifting through the crowds, remaining close to Bloodshed, Thornstriker was amazed by the different ogres; different sizes and shapes, with tribal paint, or tattoos. Grunts, growls and roars echoed over like cheering as they came to a large open arena. It looked more like someone had fenced off a large circle of land and constructed makeshift seating on high wooden platforms. Sharing one side of a cliff face, move platforms or stairs were cut into the face for more to sit or stand. From these steps appeared thirteen robbed ogres. Each one, despite their wisen ages, appeared strong and youthful. Thornstriker smiled with a small swell of pride as some elders were women. Most human councils never allowed women to stand with them but here, they stood as equals.

 

"Welcome, all tribes and independants, to this year's Gathering!!" an elder shouted, the crowd reupting in more shouts and roars.

 

"By our ancestors, may this Gathering quell the ancient fire burning in our bellies, may new life string from the victories and conquests these next few weeks. May souls meet and grudges fall," another cried.

 

Thornstriker had to cover her ears from the sheer volume of the screams, Bloodshed offered his own as she leaned closer to him. It muffled most of the screams close to her but she wasn't able to hear the elders speak.

 

"Don't worry, its just tradition bull and prayers, nothing important happens until after they're done," Bloodshed spoke close to her ears so he didn't have to remove his hands. He relished how close she was to him. The sutle but alluring scent from her bare skin, the fragence from her hair and intensified by the oils she treats herself with.

 

A familiar burn starting forming in his gut, one he quickly smothered. No, he had made himself a promise. He brought Thornstriker to put an end to those annoying rumors, not to use as his relief. He had to remain strong.

 

Slowly, tribes and individuals started sorting rounds and competition, strangers sharing drinks and challenges. Bloodshed quickly moved away from the rowdy crowd ready for fights, instead taking Thornstriker to get some food.

 

This was going to be a long Gathering.

 

* * *

Two and a half weeks later   


* * *

The gathering was coming to a close, much to Bloodshed's own relief. Since so many had challenged him for the right to be the new champion, Thornstriker had been spending time with his father. Not something he was too keen on be she was away from all the fighting and seemed overly joyed when they returned to their tent.

 

He would sit and listen to all she had done while he fought. All the books and scrolls she had found, speaking to the elders when they were willing to spare a moment. She had even purchased small amenities for herself, something she rarely did. Just the other day he was frozen seeing her in ogre garb. Not as provocative as other ogre females, but her open legs, mid-drift and shoulders brought such unclean thoughts to him, he had tried venting everything in the arena.

 

It didn't help that many other females approached him to sire them children. Single women and bonded female couples seeking their own child were a common occurence at the gathering but he refused them all. This, however, didn't deter them as many would openly challenge him, causing more fighting with less then appropriate moves and touches.

 

But finally, on the eve of the Gathering's close, he could feel the drive loosing its grip. Right now, Thornstriker was dragged off by a small group of women from his tribe. Having heard of their pairing they insisted on welcoming her with a female only tradition. Bombrush didn't see it as a problem, considering one of the women in the group had been paired with him long ago. He held trust for her, and she gave her word nothing would happen to Thornstriker.

 

He had relented, only seeing the hopeful look in Thornstriker's eyes.

 

"Bloodshed!" Perking at the sound of his name by an unfamiliar voice, turning from his draft to see a young ogre come forward. Given from the small group following him and how many young ogre girls fawned over him, he believed he was a force to be reckoned with. "I challenge you!"

 

"You're not worth my time, runt," Bloodshed growled, downing the last of his drink, taking a thick boar leg the barman offered him.

 

"Are you refusing? And I had heard the champion was something worth fighting," the juvenile snickered, gaining a rise from his group.

 

"Something you are not," clamping into his leg, tearing a large chunk from the bone before chewing and swallowing the morsol down. "You're a kid, hardly worth my time. I won't lose anything from you." The juvenile spluttered, turning to the growing crowd and festering a rise.

 

"Enough!" the sudden shout over the crowd, silencing the arguing. An Elder broke through the crowd, one Bloodshed recognised in an instant. Elder Stormstrike led his tribe, a worn veteran with the highest known record of kills within the tribes but had regressed to a teacher and holder of traditions during all Gatherings. All would heed his words or face his challenge.

 

Walking forward, the elder glared down on the challenging ogre. "Bloodshed reserves all right to refuse your challenge. You are not blooded, still a juvenile. You are asking for an unfair fight," Wreakage nodded, turning to all present. "Does any here object?" he refused to allow such travesties to occur during the Gathering. It was the whole point of the festival. "Wait until you have blooded before challenging those above you."

 

"No!" the juvenile growled, standing up to the elder. Most snickered, anticipating the beating the elder would place on such a disrespectful welp. Some commented how the new generations were forgetting tradition and their places. Bloodshed rubbed his eyes, turning his attention back to his meal but the next words the kid uttered caused all to freeze. "If Bloodshed doesn't fight me, I'll take that human!"

 

All breath ceased, all murmurs and mutters silenced. Slowly eyes turned to Bloodshed, watching as he froze mid bite.

 

"I have the right to nominate the nature of the fight, right? Then I challenge Bloodshed for that human he shows off. I win I become the champion and take her!" the crowd took a step back, one other quickly breaking off in a sprint. "She's actually not bad looking, kinda cute. My sister has always wanted a doll, and who knows? Maybe I might play with her fir..." the juvenile turned back, his body snap freezing. He hadn't realised just what he was saying would affect Bloodshed. But there, before him, the dark ogre loomed over the destroyer, eyes alight and glaring down on the welp.

 

"Bloodshed," Bombrush quickly approached, having seen what transpired. "He's a brat, he's not worth killing," his words fell on deaf ears, Bloodshed wasn't listening. His never left the kid, but his attention called to the Elder.

 

"Stormstrike, I agree."

 

"Very well,"

 

"Wait!" the juvenile trembled, stepping back from the angered Bloodshed, "I-I take it back!"

 

"And you would be shaming your tribe greatly," Stormstrike hissed. "You challenged Bloodshed, despite wise council, and he has agreed. Tradition demands you honour your words, or you face greater punishment from your own tribe," the juvenile paled. Though many turn to be individuals, they are always welcomed in their tribes. The harshest punishment an elder can lay besides death was banishment. To be striped of ones tribe would leave them like lepers in a city, forgotten and alone. No honour and no pride.

 

"Get your ass in the ring," Bloodshed growled, grabbing the kid by his arm and dragging him. Bombrush groaned, thanking whoever watched them that Thornstriker wasn't here to witness it.

 

Despite his kicking and calls for help, none aided the juvenile, all knowing tradition demanded battle. Thrown into the ring, Bloodshed paced around the kid. Stormstrike appeased the other Elders, all questioning why the Champion was fighting a teen. Knowing the reasonings, they took their places.

 

With the walls too high to climb, the teen slowly took a breath, turning to Bloodshed. Blooded Ogres would know how to gage an enemy, whether they were an easy match or a challenge, or whether to leave them be. This teen had no such sense and slowly arrogance crawled back.

 

"Bloodshed! Take it easy on him, he's just a kid!" Bombrush wasn't sure if his words reached his brat over the cheering crowd, but it was a losing battle as Bloodshed looked ready to kill.

 

"The Champion: Bloodshed, has been challenged by Crashland! May they fight strong and bring victory to their tribe!" the announcer rang, a loud bell ringing.

 

Everything became a blur. Bloodshed, fueled by his growing anger, annoyance and frustrations targeted the juvenile. Driving hard, they grappled and threw kicks and punches. The kid had talent but Bloodshed outmatched him in strength, weight and experience. His mind flew through what-ifs and ideas of what might've happened if he lost or refused, of what might happen to Thornstriker.

 

Punch after punch, grapple, throw and slam. Bloodshed ran on adrenaline, on heat, to beat this brat down. His cries lost as Bloodshed kept going and going. Shouts and roars from the crowd egged him on, turning into one voice in his head. His instincts and mind slowly formed his fantasy, his heat fueling the drive to make it happen.

 

Thornstriker, moaning and scream, ecstacy beneath him.

 

"ENOUGH!" the voice cut like a knife, freezing him mid swing. Eyes cleared to see the kid panting, his arm hanging limp while his face dripped with blood and covered in bruised. His other arm held his side, a foot shattered and leg bent the wrong way. "This challenge is complete! The Champion reigns!" Stormstrike announced, ending the bloodbath. The crowd, placated, cheered louder.

 

Bloodshed, panting and sweating, wiped the blood from his fists and body. Turning on his heel, not bothering with the kid, exited the arena.

 

"Bloodshed, wait!" Bombrush called, trying to stop his son but he could see he was tense, see the drive in his steps. Catching him, gripping his arm, he forced Bloodshed to look at him. "Do not hurt her." Bloodshed seemed to take his words in but the drive was strong, brushing his father off and made to find his lover. Bombrush had no idea what to do, except to keep others away from their tent for the night. He made a note to check on them in the morning.

 

* * *

Thornstriker giggled as she played with her new braids and the little beads and feathers the other women wove in. Aircurrent, Bombrush's friend, had even painted small temporary markings on her hands and feet, swearing they would fade away in time. The meaning behind them were blessings and protective glyphs. They were beautiful, maping them with her fingers and giggling as they still tickled.

 

Sudden movement caused her to gasp, turning to the tent flap to find Bloodshed panting, staring intently at her.

 

"Bloodshed? What happened? Are you okay?" Thinking nothing of it, she lept up and ran to the ogre, however much to her surprise, she was whisked up in his arms, lips smashing into her own.

 

Thornstriker gsaped, Bloodshed had never kissed her like this before. And his hands held her tightly, she could feel pain race up from her side from his grip.

 

"B-Bloodshed!" she cried, dragged back to their makeshift bed, pinned down while he assulted her neck and his hands groped and grabbed, never once letting her part from him.

 

"Mine~ Mine!" he growled, eyes staring down at her. She gasped, seeing them cloud over. He was move on pure instinct, his body moving without rational thinking.

 

"Blood-shed! S-stop! Stop!" she screamed, trying to push back but failing.

 

"No one can have you! I won! Mine! Mine!" he panted, grinding down harder and he drew in her appearence, she had still been wearing those clothes the women gave her, burying his nose deep into her skin to draw in as much of her smell as he could. As if adding fuel to the flame, Bloodshed drove harder, pulling Thornstriker around his face, ignoring her screams and embarrassment. "Mine~ All mine~" brushing her skirt aside, he dove deep.

 

Thornstriker's shrieked, gasped from the strange feeling wriggling around deep inside her and tears spilling from her eyes as Bloodshed showed no signs of stopping. She loved him but she wasn't ready for this, and he was taking it. Every swipe caused her to wriggle more, draw more gasps and moans from her and cries.

 

Bloodshed drank deep, trying harder to somehow make every inch of his beloved. But the welp continued to echo in his mind. He needed more, he needed more marks. They all have to know she belonged to him. That she was his mate and not some toy!

 

Pulling back, driven on, Bloodshed latched onto her breast. Tearing her clothes away, Thornstriker screamed louder as Bloodshed striped away any decency she had and burrowed into her chest. His licks, sucks and bits now littered her pale skin, turning it pink or dark from his loving.

 

"Bloodshed! P-Please stop this! It hurts!" she gasped, swinging her arms about. Somehow, she had managed to hit a wound he hadn't accounted for, one the welp must've landed in the arena. Cringing, his grip slacked enough for Thornstriker to flee.

 

She tried to reach the entrance, pushed with what strength she had left to bolt from the tent but Bloodshed recovered faster, grabbing her harshly and pulled her back to their bed. Arms pinned above her head, legs pulled around his hips, her tear streaming eyes locked on his.

 

"You can't go, they can't have you," he hissed. "You're mine! My mate! mine! No one can take you away from me!" With her arms trapped and her legs pinned, Thornstriker froze as Bloodshed tried to remove his cloth and pants.

 

This was it. His drive to mate, all the fighting, it had now broken past the point and now he was going to take what he wanted. Her eyes widened, more tears streaming as realisation pooled. Bloodshed was going to rape her. Fear robbed her sense of preservation, wriggling against his grip despite Bloodshed tightening his hold. She could feel her wrists buckle, crying out as something shifted and her left hand bloomed with pain.

 

"No nononono! NO! Stop! Please!! Please sto-op!!" she begged, moving her legs to kick but found his painful grip holding her thigh close, a large bruise breaking under the skin. She hiccuped, eyes wide as something hard pressed close to her. His hand moved from her thigh to her core, gasping and crying as his fingered danced and smeared the slippery fluid coming from her. Her body still reacted to his touches, just as she always did. His fingers stroking and even prodding her tight hole before trying to breach it. She sucked in as much air as she could, tensing as he pushed his fingers in.

 

His mouth latched on a cluster of nerves near her neck, the resulting jolt causing her body to relax if only just. His fingers slide easily in, not far enough to fill her but enough to make room for him.

 

"Bloodshed!! Please!!" she begged, feeling his fingers disappear and another large object press in. She tried one last time, trying to kick and struggle despite the pain in her wrist and thigh and his hold, but his hips snapped forward, completely seating himself inside her and chocking she screams.

 

"BLOODSHED!!" the terrified scream, holding more fear than all she had screamed prior, seemed to knock him from his trance. Remaining still, Blooshed slowly cleared his mind before looking down. His breath hitched and his heart froze. Thornstriker was crying, tears rolling over dried streaks and her body shook.

 

Confused and horrified, he released her wrists and hips, gasping at the sight of her swollen wrist and a large bruise surfacing on on her thigh. Glancing down, he quickly removed himself from her, jumping as she gasped and remained still.

 

"Thornstriker...I...I..." he didn't know what to say, how to say it, or how to act. He had, in a blind, heat driven rage, forced himself on her. Gathering pillows and blankets, he quickly covered her and tried to make her comfortable. His touches barely scrapped her, treating her like fragile glass, all the while turning to his own sobs. "I...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated like a mantra, unsure of where to touch or even how.

 

"Bloodshed..." Thornstriker's voice hiccuped, skittering Bloodshed back. She managed to sit up, gripping her swollen wrist. Instantly, Bloodshed grabbed some healing herbs smashed into a paste and some bandages. Gently taking her hand, mindful of the swell, and applied to herbs before bandaging her wrist tight. Sitting back, Thornstriker rubbed her throbbing wrist. "Why..." looking up at Bloodshed, watching him closely. "W-why did you...?"

 

Bloodshed turned away, ashamed. He cursed himself for not having better control, but he was somewhat glad she wasn't completely fearful of him.

 

"I...I lost control," he sighed, containing a growl. She didn't deserve that tone. "Some...kid, he challanged me. I refused."

 

"B-but...I thought you c-couldn't so that."

 

"I can when he's unblooded," glancing over, seeing her tearful but confused expression. "He isn't of age, only a teen. Challanges by juveniles can be denied because they don't know better."

 

"And...you refused?"

 

"...At first," sighing, he turned away from her, his own grief and regret churning deep in his gut. "He kept trying...then he got you involved," Thornstriker perked up. She got involved? How? "If I declined, he's take you." Thornstriker noticed his hands shake, clenching into fists. "I...I got angry, and from this ...fucking season...I thought fighting would burn it out, but it only got worse. The little shit was the trigger..."

 

Thornstriker pondered a moment, coming to her own conclusion. Since the festival was a gathering of tribes to settle disputes and interact with one another, its purpose was for mating. Bloodshed hadn't taken her once since they got here, he had been fighting to stave off his heat instead of rutting. Bottling this need instead of working through it. Looking down, she could still see his own arousal still straining, standing erect as he twitched from it.

 

He was putting himself through all this, to prevent her from getting hurt. He had said from their other couplings before that ogres are known to have extremely rouch sex, rough enough to cause harm. He was always gentle with her, but could he be fearing what might happen if he lost himself in his lust?

 

Still shaken from his advance, Thornstriker moved slowly until she managed to climb into his lap. Bloodshed froze as she moved, legs straddling his legs while she moved to press down.

 

"No, Thornstriker," Bloodshed held her hips, not gripping tightly but hovering above them. "You don't..."

 

"I want to," she shivered. "You...don't need to keep yourself like this...besides...I want to...to help you..." swallowing, she shivered again as she pressed down and gasped as she felt the filling glide as she settled against him.

 

"T-thorn...striker...." Bloodshed gasped, wanting to grab ahold of her as the heat billowed up gain. He foughts the urge, keeping his hands away.

 

Once settling, Thornstriker gasped again as she moved. Managing to raise herself up, she eased back down, struggling but managing a smooth rhythm. Her moans came in short whines, trying to keep pressure off her wrist and leg but wanted to do more. Pressing close to Bloodshed, she could feel the heat coming off him, wrapping her in the same safety and security their previous couplings gave her.

 

Bloodshed panted, less controlled than any time they made love, moaning and groaning as she moved too slow to quell his heat, but he managed to claw what sanity he had, keeping himself from losing control again. Focusing on the idea of hurting her again fueled that control.

 

  
"B-Bloodshed...please..." Thornstriker gasped, looping her arms around him. Eyes snapped wide, Bloodshed engulfed her smaller frame, turned and laid her out on their bad, tensing in case he had lost control again, a moan replaced her fear as Bloodshed moved. Leaving Thornstriker to hold on to him, Bloodshed propped up on his arms and moved his hips faster. Focusing on keeping himself up allowed his to hold Thornstriker in place with his bulk.  


 

He gazed down, watching her moan and writhe beneath him, his heat turning into an inferno, his hips shifting faster. Choking and whimpering, Thornstriker's voice almost cracked silence as an orgasm rushed through her. Her body tensed and arched, but Bloodshed kept going. But they always came together, was the heat effecting him? She gasped as fluid spilled inside her, turning to see Bloodshed panting. His hips still pumping, Bloodshed managed to quickly and carefully flip Thornstriker onto her hands and knees, locking her in with his bulk.

 

"B-Bloodshed!" she moaned, feeling his cock slide back inside her.

 

"S-Sorry...hot...so hot...need...need more..." his panted, moving his hips again.

 

Thornstriker moaned and gasped, keeping her hips up while cradling her head in her arms, she tried to keep her breath as orgasm rose again. Having one already, and her body trying to climb to a second so quickly, Thornstriker shook and threw aside all restraint. Her screams became louder as Bloodshed drove her own, moaning loud without a care who might hear them.

 

"T-thorn...stri-iker....close...gonna...I...ah~" Bloodshed's hips pistoned, wet slapping echoing around them before his drove down hard. Thornstriker shrieked, the flooding of cum pooling and spurting from her ogre lover filling all available space, leaking out when to could be held.

 

"B-Blo...ods-shed..." eyes rolling back, Thornstriker collapsed. Panting and moaning, she could barely fight off sleep as Bloodshed moved sluggish above her. She felt him pull out, a large arm wrapping around her as well as the soft hug of a blanket. With the last of her strength, Thornstriker managed to turn, facing Bloodshed, cuddling close to his chest before darkness covered her.

 

* * *

Light hit her closed eyes, causing her to cringe before turning away. Forced awake by the daylight, Thornstriker yawned and rubbed her eyes. Hissing, she looked down and recalled her wrist, another hissed as something brushed against her leg. Last night came back in a flash, wrapping the blanket around her.

 

Movement caught her eyes, looking up to see Bloodshed holding open the tent flap and an elderly ogre woman entering.

 

"She's a healer," Bloodshed said kurtly, looking on in concern. "She's going to look at your injuries, treat them too." Ashamed still, Bloodshed turned away. "I'll...be just here." Disappearing behind the flap, Thornstriker turned to the woman.

 

"Fret not child, there is nothing I haven't seen," the ogre woman smiled, her hands soft as she grasped Thornstriker's hand and unwrapped her wrist. Pain bloomed but before she would gasp, she squeaked at the sudden ice placed on the area. The woman seemed to wait a few minutes before removing the ice and felt around her wrist. Her hands were smooth and soft, unlike the other women she had interacted with. When the pain began to surface again, the healer replaced the bag and placed Thornstriker's other hand ontop to hold. "Just a sprain, nothing broken. I'll dab a salve and wrap it tight, leave it on for three days and keep it dry." Nodding, Thornstriker watched as she moved only enough of her blanket to see her leg. A large nasty bruise had bloomed, very tender even to the healer's feather touch. "Ah, a simple contact bruise. Easy fix."

 

Thornstriker turned to question how a bruise was easier to fix than a sprain, she marveled as the healer pulled out a strange looking leaf. Slowly, she uttered strange foreign words, placing the leaf over the bruise. She gasped as the area stung a moment before numbing, colour started draining from the leaf as the healer pressed down. A clear slime pooled around the bruise, turning the leave pale and slightly brown. The healer then massaged the slime into the bruise, watching it fade only just but numbing all her pain.

 

"I'll mix up some ointment made from this same leaf, apply it once a day for the next week or so, or until the bruise disappears. It will help the pain too. However, your mate will need to carry you, this leaf's essense is far stronger than the ointment I make from it, it will numb your entire leg and will be unable to support you for at least a day, maybe two."

 

Thornstriker nodded, simply glad to be able to move without pain. The healer smiled, moving to her morter and pestel to crush up her herbs. Mixed with what looked like alcohol, she lathered the salve onto her wrist, pulling a clean roll of bandages and wrapped her wrist tight. Before Thornstriker could ask, the healer was already collecting some clothes for her, helping her dress.

 

"Fret not child, your mate asked for me to help you after I treated you. The Gathering has ended and all are preparing to leave," the healer explained, taking care to avoid contact with Thornstriker's wrist and thigh. Nodding, happy to finally have some clothing on, Thornstriker watched as the healer left, promising the ointment to Bloodshed and asking he wait for her to finish it. Nodding, Bloodshed returned.

 

  
He felt awkward, unsure of what to say. What could he say? He had taken advantage of her. His damned heat controlling him like som e base animal. Growling at his own weakness, Thornstriker raised a hand, touching his cheek.   


 

Words didn't need to be said. She understood, she had forgiven and, though baring the scars of what happened and still feeling the lingering thoughts and fears, her love didn't change. Taking her hand, placing a small kiss on her open palm, Bloodshed moved to packing everything.

 

"Um..." Thornstriker blushed as Bloodshed waited for her to move. "The healer...she said I can't walk for two days...because of this ointment to put on my bruise." Perplexed, Bloodshed looked at her bruise. It certainly looked better, lacking the same yellow outline and angry black, instead looking blue or purple with red skin. Nodding, Bloodshed moved her first, brushing out of the tent and gently placing her with Bombrush's belongings. His father had almost finished packing up, turning a knowing eye to the pair.

 

"I won't take long," placing a small kiss on her forehead, Bloodshed immediately started work, ignoring Bombrush's look.

 

"Are you alright, my dear?" jumping, Thornstriker didn't expect Bombrush to ask.

 

"Oh, um...yes, yes I'm fine," she nodded. "T-the healer said it wasn't bad..."

 

  
"Not your injuries, silly," he smiled, coming to sit beside her. "Are  _you_ okay?" his tone hinted to what he meant, Thornstriker's eyes widening as she realised he must've heard them. No doubt the whole plot around them heard them last night. A giant blush engulfed her face, turning away in embarrassment.   


 

"I...I..." flustered and embarassed, she couldn't collect her words. Bombrush, showing an understanding smile, placed a hand on hers. Turning to him, his kindness allowed her to pause and calm. Taking a breath, she mused his question. "I...I'm okay...I'm okay now."

 

"You sure?" he asked, ensuring she wasn't just saying it for his benefit. Breathing in a sob, Thornstriker nodded, no tear falling. Accepting her answer, he took her uninjured hand and placed a small loving kiss upon her knuckled. Her blush renewed as he smiled, returning to his packing.

 

There was one thing she hoped for: would she have to go through this again the next Gathering?


End file.
